


A Fool Could See

by Layne Faire (HisDarlin)



Series: Take Your Time 'verse [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1D Wankfest 2019, Alternate Universe, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, I mean, In the Shower, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Roommates, Shower Sex, Timestamp, feelings what feelings, its a wank, not much explanation needed, sexual fantasies, take your time 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 07:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19000744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisDarlin/pseuds/Layne%20Faire
Summary: A Harry POV timestamp from the story Take Your TimeIt's been almost a month since Harry moved into Louis' flat. Sometimes a shower isn't just a shower, and we all forget the towel every once in a while, right? Of course, sometimes, the universe just wants to fuck with us, too.Written for the 1D Wankfest 2019





	A Fool Could See

**Author's Note:**

> When I begged [Lauren](kingsofeverything.tumblr.com) to create the Wankfest, I already knew what I was writing. Of course, I really wanted to write one for Louis, too, but I just didn't have enough time to get it done. So, if you're interested, you'll have that to look forward to in the not so distant future! 
> 
> I need to thank [Nadia](justalittlelouislove.tumblr.com) for my lovely fic post art - she saved my butt so I could gt some sleep before I had to go to work. 
> 
> This has been betaed now, thanks to the loving ministrations of my darling [Sus](lululawrence.tumblr.com)! She makes my words pretty, so any errors you find are all mine and I freely own them.
> 
> Please do not share this with members of the band or their family. Fanfiction is for fans. Let's keep it that way.
> 
> Title is taken from the lyrics of The Divinyls' song, _I Touch Myself_

Harry pulled his keyring from his pocket and transferred the grocery totes to his opposite hand to open the door. He’d left work two hours early, having unexpectedly spent the day running deliveries. It had proven to be unseasonably warm for the beginning of November, the jumper he’d donned - while perfect for working in the cooler - had been too thick for hours spent in traffic and running in and out of buildings with variable temperatures. He’d carried a sheen of sweat on his skin most of the day, the hair at his nape an annoying riotous mess of damp curls. Not for the first time, he considered cutting it all off. 

To be honest, he hadn’t left work this knackered in ages, but when needs must, you do what you can to help out. He’d even sprung for an Uber home, rather than endure the stifling crowd on the tube. Now, though, all he wanted was a hot shower and a lie down with a book. He’d even skimped on dinner, settling for a roasting bag chicken from Tesco’s on his way home. He’d throw some jacket potatoes in the oven at the same time and steam up the bag of veggies he’d also picked up. No mess, no fuss, no prep, and he’d still have a full dinner ready when Louis made it home that evening. 

Louis.

He still marveled at the karmic intervention that had brought about his current living situation. Especially given the  disaster that had necessitated it. 

Harry had moved into Louis’ flat nigh on a month ago, after his break-up left him all but homeless. The circumstances that had left him looking for a place hadn’t been ideal, and the transition hadn’t been without its difficulties, mostly due to the emotional baggage Harry carried with him.  Louis never treated him with pity or harped on him for more details about what had happened, for which Harry found himself extremely grateful. His circle of friends had gone into protect and coddle mode after Aiden had left, especially his best mate Zayn, and he found himself smothered under the weight of their concern. He knew they meant well, but it only made him feel even shittier than Aiden’s leaving had. It’s probably why Harry had been so willing to consider Louis’ flat when he’d mentioned the available room. 

They’d been little more than acquaintances at the time, Louis having been a friend of Zayn’s boyfriend. It seemed like a perfect option. Louis had been distant enough to not be overly invested in Harry’s well-being after the break-up, but close enough through his friendship with Liam that it wouldn’t be like living with strangers. Zayn and Louis had always appeared friendly, so Zayn’s adamant objections to Harry moving into Louis’ had come as a surprise.  When Harry expressed interest, Zayn took an entire day off and spent it looking for to let opportunities all over the city that would suit Harry’s needs, determined to find an alternative to Louis’ offer. The options had been few and, against Zayn’s wishes, Harry had arranged to see the flat. Within minutes, Louis had put him at ease. They’d slipped into comfortable conversation, and Harry found himself laughing for the first time in weeks over Louis’ casual banter about the flat. By the end of the evening, he felt certain he’d found the best place for him to heal and move on. 

Even when the reality of everything had hit him like a tonne of bricks one night not long after he’d moved in, Louis had proven to be nothing other than kind and supportive. He made an off hand mention of his own animosity toward Aiden, but even that had not been done in a way to embarrass Harry. Instead, Louis had given Harry pause about the uneven nature of his relationship with Aiden, and in the weeks since, he’d done a lot of reflection on why he’d settled for less than when he’d deserved better. 

When Harry had questioned Liam about Louis’ dislike of Aiden, and shared some of their late night conversation, Zayn had choked on his tea, muttering something under his breath about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Liam had shot him a look, and Harry let it go, not wanting to cause conflict between his friends. Maybe someday he’d figure it out. 

Aiden had left him more than a little burnt, and Harry had determined that being single and happy was infinitely preferable to being a complacent doormat - walked on and neglected - just so he could be in a relationship. And honestly, barring that one late night heart to heart he’d had with Louis, for the most part Aiden had become an afterthought in his life. Nothing more a hovering reminder to mind his heart, but not the overarching pain it had been at the time. 

He knew he had Louis to thank for that, too. They’d fallen into an easy friendship, with Louis taking the time to do little things that made Harry smile, even if it was something as simple as leaving his cup next to the kettle in the morning or budging over on the sofa so they could both use the WiFi whilst binging shit TV on Netflix.  Louis had made space in his place for Harry, accepting him for who and where he was, and for that Harry felt nothing but gratitude. For the first time in a long time, it didn’t seem like the kindness came with strings attached or that he was indebted to Louis for it. It was nice. It was comfortable.  _ And _ he felt at home, another feeling he hadn’t realized had been missing from his life over the last few years. 

Harry toed off his boots, then shook off his coat and hung it in the closet. Retrieving the totes from the small table that sat inside the door, he carried them into the kitchen.  He shed his jumper and dropped it across the back of a chair, the gooseflesh from the sudden temperature difference a welcome relief against his sweat-clammy, overheated skin. He dug in his jeans pocket to pull out the hair tie he’d shoved in that morning before he left the house. Once he’d pulled back his hair, he washed his hands, and then made short work of getting dinner in the oven. Closing the oven door, he breathed a sigh of relief and set the time. 

With nothing else pressing on his time, Harry pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, picked up his sweater, and wandered down the hall to his bedroom. A notification sounded on his phone, and he sat on the edge of the bed to scroll through them all whilst he finished the bottle of water. He scrolled through his notifications whilst he finished the bottle of water. Then, with a yawn and a stretch, Harry flopped back on the bed, his skin instantly sticking to a piece of paper he’d left out. Grimacing, he peeled it off his arm,his nose wrinkling from the sour acrid smell that clung to his skin. Rolling over, he grabbed his phone to re-check the time. It had only just gone a quarter to five. Louis wouldn’t be home for at least an hour. He could still grab a shower, the tank would have refill before Louis got home, and he’d still finish dinner in plenty of time. 

Inordinately delighted at the thought, he stripped down, glad to be shed of the damp clothes. He tossed them into the laundry hamper and sauntered naked into the bathroom across from his room. He twisted the taps, letting the water warm before switching on the shower. He stepped in, pulling the curtain shut behind him, a content sigh escaping him as the water sluiced down his skin to sweep the cloying remnants of his hectic day away. He reached back and released his hair from its tie, then ducked under the spray. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, letting the water stream through his hair, across his face, down his neck. He took a mouthful then spit it out, chuckling to himself over his inadequate re-enactment of a whale. 

Blindly, he groped the shelves in the corner of the shower for the shampoo. He flipped the cap and squirted a generous amount into his hand, then rubbed it into his hair. He breathed deep, expecting the cleansing scent of tea tree, only to have a spicy combination of citrus, sage, and sandalwood assail his nose. He’d grabbed Louis’ bottle, then. He shrugged and continued washing his hair. Louis wouldn’t mind, and Harry did enjoy the way his flatmate smelled. He rinsed, then found the matching conditioner and utilized it as well. 

He shook the water out of his eyes once more and looked for his own shower gel, then remembered he needed to buy a new bottle. He spied Louis’ on the shelf. Well… in for a penny, in for a pound. He reached over and grabbed the bottle, an added dose of sandalwood filling the air. 

The steam built in the room, the redolent fragrance filling the room, the latent sensual aroma bringing a languid fluidity to Harry’s limbs as he rubbed the flannel across them, while other parts of his anatomy had a much different reaction. He lathered his torso, attempting to ignore the stirrings in his groin, breath leaving him in a searing hiss when his hand grazed the turgid shaft of his cock. Harry moaned at the sensation of the soapy flannel dragging across his cock, the way his balls tightened in reaction. 

It had been weeks, probably months since he’d felt any type of release.  He let the flannel drop to the bottom of the tub, leaned back against the wall, and wrapped a hand around himself, taking a few tentative strokes along his length. His other hand slipped between his legs to cup his balls, then drag across the sensitive skin between them and the base of his cock. He picked up the pace, his foreskin sliding back to reveal the purpled cockhead, a blurt of pre-come escaping from the slit and mingling with the slick slide of the soap.  He closed his eyes again, bracing his shoulders against the wall and his feet against the side of the tub to keep from sliding. He worked his hand around and down his shaft, his mind’s eye searching for an appropriate image to further the stimulation. He discarded one after another, still working himself over, the coiling tension in his core tugging at him for release. His hand moved faster, fingers pressing into the thick vein on the underside of his cock, the other hand circling the base in a tight grip in an effort to slow things down, futile as it proved to be. It had been far too long. His body wouldn’t be denied its’ release. He chased the sensations tingling through him, his breath escaping him in gasping pants and stifled moans. He pushed closer to the edge, let go of his base and pressed the fingers into the sensitive spot on his perineum. 

Unbidden, an image of Louis from the weekend filled Harry’s mind. Louis had stood leaning against the counter in the kitchen, his eyes heavy, hair tousled, chin covered in scruff, and wearing only a loose pair of joggers that barely rested on his hips, a bit of morning wood pressing against the front, whilst he’d deeply inhaled the cup of coffee Harry had handed him. Harry orgasmed with a shout and slumped against the wall, come pulsing across his fingers to rinse down the drain, and his body flushed not just from his exertions, but also in abject mortification for using memories of Louis to get himself off.  

He hastily scrubbed his body again, then stepped from the shower, only to discover he’d neglected to bring a towel or clothes into the loo with him. 

‘“Bloody arsing hell! Fuck my fucking life!” 

He grabbed the small hand towel from next to the sink and dragged it across his skin as best he could. There was nothing else to be done. Thank fuck Louis wasn’t home yet. He opened the door, and scurried into the hallway - and smacked right into his flatmate coming down the hall toward his room. 

“Bollocks!” Harry dropped a hand to cover his crotch, backing away toward his bedroom. “Fucking hell! Shit, Louis. ‘M sorry!  Forgot a towel, didn’t I? Dinner’s almost done… just need a mo… so sorry…” Harry felt the heat of an embarrassed blush consume him, and he turned to dart into his room, slamming the door shut behind him, and cutting off whatever Louis had replied. 

He fell face first onto his bed, silently begging the universe to swallow him up so he wouldn’t have to face the rest of the day. However, the universe has a perverse sense of humor, and instead of indulging him, his phone rang. He reached across the bed, scrabbling to find the offending instrument. Face still buried in the mattress, he brought it to his ear. 

“‘lo?” 

_ “Harry? Is that you, mate?”  _

Harry groaned and rolled over, sitting up as he stuttered out a reply. “Since I wasn’t mercifully struck by lightning in the last few minutes, unfortunately, yeah it’s me, Li.” 

_ “Is uhmm… everything okay? You don’t sound good.”  _

“Only gone and embarrassed the fuck out of myself.” He pulled a pair of pants from the dresser and slid them on. Feeling less exposed, he settled back on the bed, ignoring the incongruity of not wanting to talk to Liam without pants, after having casually strolled naked into his flatmate. “Barrelled over Louis, bare-arsed and fresh out of the shower. Right in the middle of the hallway. I’m praying for death rather than have to face him over the dinner table.” He groaned at Liam’s bark of laughter. “Oi, fuck off, Liam. I’m beyond embarrassed right now. Is there a point to this call, or can I go die in peace?” 

_ “Cheer up, mate. It’s not like he walked in on you having a wank, or summat, right? ‘Sides, I doubt you wandering around starkers is gonna offend him.” _

Harry’s mouth snapped shut so hard his teeth clicked together. “Uhmmmm…” 

_ “Harry? Oh, Harry, no. You… he didn’t?”  _

“No! Fucking hell, NO!” Harry groaned again, muttering under his breath. “Might as well, have, since he was there anyway.” 

_ “What?”  _ Liam laughed again, incredulity filling his tone. 

“Shut it Liam. I can’t... I… it just… happened.”

_ “Harry-”  _

“I didn’t mean to… it's been so long… and he… 

_ “Harry-”  _

“I mean, he’s fit, right? It’s normal, right?” 

_ “Harry!”  _

“What!” 

Liam’s voice softened. _ “It’s fine if you’re attracted to Louis. He is right fit, not my type, but still fit. And honestly, his ego would explode at the thought of him being wank-worthy, so maybe let’s not tell him.” _

“You’d do that? Just… ignore it?” 

_ “Of course, mate. And we probably shouldn’t say anything to Zayn either. You know how he is. Consider it forgotten - you know, unless I need blackmail material for something later in life.”  _

“Kiss my arse.” 

_ “Eh, save it for Lou.” _ Liam chuckled again then changed the subject.  _ “Zayn asked me to give you a ring, remind you about his art show next week.”  _

“Yeah, yeah. The invite’s hanging on the fridge. I’ll be there.” 

_ “Louis, too. I made Zayn include him.”  _

Harry sighed.

_ “It’ll be fine, Harry. I promise. We’ll see you Wednesday, then, right?” _

“Yeah, sure. Wednesday. And thanks, Liam.” 

They rang off, and Harry still sat on the edge of the bed, turning his phone round and round in his hands. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Louis knocked on the door. 

“Hey, Harry - there’s a timer or summat going off in the kitchen. I didn’t touch anything, was just making a cuppa.” 

Harry jumped up, and dragged on a pair of joggers and a long-sleeved concert jersey. “Yeah, shit. It’s dinner. I’ll be right out.” 

As he exited his room, his phone chimed with an incoming text. He glanced down to see a message from Liam. 

 

**Breathe. He doesn’t know what you don’t tell him. You’re cool.**

 

Harry texted back a thumbs up, then closed his phone. Right. Cool. It’ll be fine. 

He could handle this. He and Louis were friends. No matter how attracted he was to Louis, no matter how much Louis was beginning to feel like home. Harry couldn’t emotionally afford to screw things up and catch feelings. Not now. Not ever. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story, please leave kudos and comments. It's like air to a writer to know their work is appreciated. You can also come yell at [me](laynefaire.tumblr.com) on tumblr. I love to talk about my stories, writing, whatever!


End file.
